Unrequited
by Madame Atomic Bomb
Summary: She knows. She's always known... Satoph with some Tokka


"You know, you're taking this pretty well," Toph said beside him with a nudge to his ribs. Sokka jittered away from her sharp elbow, graced her with a bemused grin, and then glanced around at the mingling crowd.

The wedding reception was in full swing around them. The massive ballroom at the royal palace was stuffed with dancers, tables and food. An orchestra sent music tinkling through the air. Everything and everyone was draped in the Fire Nation colors of red and gold, though here and there were splashes of green and blue. Many of the wedding guests had taken it upon themselves to acknowledge their new Fire Lady's birthright as a citizen of Kyoshi Island.

That the Fire Nation had accepted Suki with open arms was a testament to how far the Nation had come since the war. Sokka privately thought most of them were just relieved to see Zuko settling down.

Sokka thought of how beautiful his ex-girlfriend had looked at the ceremony, draped in a satiny red dress, embroidered with gold, her hair twisted and tumbled with jewels, face painted in the Kyoshi Warrior tradition. She'd carried a fan of pure gold and the sun glinting off of it was dazzling. He smiled again. She'd looked happy, and for that matter, so had Zuko, who had seemed more than a little dazed when he'd turned around to see her walking toward him down the aisle.

Sokka had had to reach out a hand and steady the Fire Lord, whose knees had looked like they might buckle at any moment. Zuko had whispered his gratitude to him, but not once had he taken his eyes off of Suki.

Sokka glanced willingly back at his best friend, who was looking just as beautiful as the bride in a surprisingly slinky gold gown, with a dragon and fan embroidered on it in lurid thread the color of rubies. Her makeup was dramatic, with red lips and lined eyes, and someone had convinced her to pull her hair back out of her face. A miniature golden fan was inserted into her dark hair, and a sprig of fresh blue flowers and several strings of green crystals cascaded down the side of her hair. Katara, who was somewhere out on the dance floor with Aang, had been wearing the same thing.

Somehow, it hadn't looked as good on her as it did on Toph. The whole effect was flattering and foreign on Toph, who was more at home in her metal-bending uniform, her bare feet covered in dirt. He knew that she was still barefoot, but the length of the dress had hidden that fact from the wedding guests. She looked elegant and sensual and he felt a pang in his guts that he couldn't ignore.

Sokka sighed as he studied the slope of her nose, and the way her red-painted mouth quirked at the corners. To distract himself, he said, "They've been together for two years and we've been broken up for four. Honestly, I'm okay with it. You didn't see the look on Zuko's face when she came down that aisle. Trust me, she's in good hands."

"I could feel his heart racing," she said and then turned her head toward him, a sly expression on her face. "When you love someone, your heart beats out of control whenever they're around. Zuko's heart is always racing around her. I think I knew he loved her before _she _did."

Sokka felt creeping fingers of panic slide down his spine as he stared at her. His heart thudded hard and he clenched his hands into fists.

There was no way she could mean what he thought she meant…

"Toph! There you are!" Sokka's attention turned to a sharply dressed figure emerging from the crowd and a flat-mouthed smile crossed his lips as Satoru waved at him in greeting and then kissed Toph on the temple.

Toph smiled and immediately turned her attention to her husband.

"Where have you been? I thought I'd have to send a rescue party," she said with a grin as Satoru handed her a glass of red liquid.

"Sorry, the line for the punch was really long," Satoru said with a good-natured grin. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and then gestured to the ballroom. "Madhouse in here, isn't it? I didn't think I was ever going to make it back! I'm glad our wedding was a smaller affair."

"Me too," Toph said, grasping him by the front of his jacket and bringing him down for a swift kiss. Sokka turned away, his good mood souring even further. "Now go get me something to eat."

Satoru laughed and shook his head. "You hear that, Sokka? I'm just her errand boy tonight!"

"You're my errand boy every night and you love it," Toph said, poking him in the chest.

"I do," Satoru mumbled and kissed the tip of her nose.

"I know you do. Now don't come back unless you have chocolate," she said and gave him a push. The machinist met his gaze and grinned, and then he sidestepped back into the crowd and disappeared from view.

Sokka's fist bounced off of his thigh a few times as Toph sipped at her punch. He chewed on the inside of his lip and stole glances at her, her words echoing in his skull.

"You love him, don't you?" he suddenly burst out, unable to keep the words back. He regretted them though; as they tread much too close to all of the things he was not allowed to say. Maybe it was the alcohol in his glass. Maybe it was the dress. Maybe it was the way his heart was pounding, and the fact that he knew she could feel it, and knew what it meant.

Or maybe he was just tired of pretending.

Toph's expression was sad. "Sokka, don't do this."

But it was too late. Some madness had taken him and like a dog with a bone, he found he couldn't let it go.

"Do you love him?"

"I married him, didn't I?" was her reply.

"You didn't answer my question."

She sighed and her blind eyes closed. "I love him, Sokka. You know that I do."

He swallowed and ground his teeth together; it was nothing he hadn't known already, hadn't expected. What a fool he was, to think… Why did it still hurt though? Why did it still feel like he was being flayed alive from the inside out?

He said tightly, "He's a good man. I like him a lot. He's…he's lucky to have you."

"He knows it."

"He'd _better._"

"Sokka…" He swallowed as he felt Toph's hand suddenly slip into his. She squeezed hard, once, and then let go. "I'm sorry."

But he was already walking away from her. The happy music tinkling in the air had lost its magic. The dazzling finery had lost its gleam. The smell of the food was no longer appetizing. Bitterness and heartbreak swelled in him.

It was a night of celebration, but there was no joy in it for him.

_(end)_


End file.
